Author's Note: *Obligatory Denial of Ownership* Quick heads up, what I do post won't be the full extent of Harry and Hermione's story in Slytherin Prince, just the moments that I feel most eager to share.

1st Year:

"Use the boy…"

Quirrell rounded on Harry, the ropes holding him in place vanishing in an instant. "Come here Potter, now!"

Harry sneered at the man, disgusted by his clear weakness, but reluctantly rose from the floor and walked forward. However weak and pathetic a being Quirrell was, Harry knew he was still no match for him and it was foolish to fight at that moment. "Tell me what you see," Quirrell ordered, making room for Harry to stand before the Mirror of Erised.

Harry was prepared to see his parents, as he had earlier that year, prepared for the empty feeling to return with the painful truth that nothing would ever bring them back and no matter how welcome he was with the Grangers, his own family was dead and gone. But that wasn't what he saw in the mirror. He saw himself, pale, skinny, terrified… but the image rippled, and in the blink of an eye he saw himself older, less skinny, smiling as though he hadn't a care in the world. His reflection turned his attention to another figure approaching in the mirror, and with a jolt Harry recognized Hermione, her hair just as wild as ever, though somehow… glossier… and she too was older and seemed to hold herself straighter, more confident somehow.

Harry's reflection held out his hand to Hermione, who eagerly accepted before throwing her other arm around his neck in a hug and laughing with him. She pulled back her hand and gazed at the real Harry, opening her palm to show him a blood red stone that she slid into his reflection's pocket before winking at him. There was something shining in Hermione's eyes that Harry couldn't decipher, but he knew it was powerful, and he was tempted to lose himself in his pursuit of understanding before he realized that he could feel something heavy drop into his own pocket. Harry's jaw nearly dropped when Hermione pressed her fingers against the other side of the glass, and though she had no voice, Harry could read her lips as she told him, 'patience,' and turned back to face his reflection.

"What is it, Potter, what do you see?" Quirrell asked and Harry turned away from the mirror, not trusting himself any further with the magic the mirror was imbued with. "Tell me what you saw!"

Harry faced down Quirrell and presented him with the most believable lie he could think of. "My parents. I see myself standing between my parents as they smile at me," he answered, and hoped Quirrell wouldn't question it further. As long as Harry could play the devastated orphan role, he had a chance of keeping Quirrell distracted long enough for Dumbledore to make it back to the castle.

*Skip*

As Draco turned to leave, Hermione looked back at Harry with shimmering eyes. "Never do that again, Harry."

Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Do what?" He asked.

Hermione frowned. "Protect me against my will. Richard does it enough, and I told you before Harry, you're my best friend, not my brother. Don't ever forget that again."

Harry's first instinct was to argue with Hermione, to tell her that they couldn't have split the potion because there was too little, and that as far as they knew time was of the essence and there wasn't enough for a proper farewell, that he knew if he hadn't deceived her she would have tried to do the impossible and potentially gotten herself hurt, but he was stopped in his tracks by her eyes. The command in those eyes rocked him to his core, and he was reminded of the older Hermione he'd seen not long ago in that terrifying mirror. "I won't forget that, I promise," he answered her, and Hermione nodded before walking away so she wouldn't be shooed by Madam Pomfrey again.